What the gardener saw
by Lieutenant Thalia
Summary: 1 shot. George has been the groundskeeper at the Posen's mansion for 22 years. Aubrey's 21st birthday is approaching, and her father has chosen a suitor. But what if the suitor is not the one she really loves? Terrible title/summary. Staubrey (Stacie and Aubrey). K plus for mentions of rape (nothing too graphic) and general abuse. R and R. Please. I don't own Pitch Perfect.


Harrison Posen was a rich man. That was understandable, he was the CEO of Posen Enterprises, of course. In fact, he was so rich, he had 17 maids, 3 waiters 2 doormen, 2 nanny's, 12 chefs and 23 groundskeepers, including me. I've been working here for 22 years, tending the grounds and watching the children grow up. Our jobs are pretty much as described, except we are to be seen and never heard.

Harrison lived with his wife, Heather, and their son, James and their daughter, Aubrey. They were the perfect family, outwardly, anyway. Then 1 night after James went away to university an ambulance came when Mrs Posen "fell" down the stairs. I looked up briefly when they arrived, before going back to work. It was none of my business.

Mrs Posen died later that night. From what the maids said, she had damaged her internal organs. There was nothing they could do. Even if they replaced the damaged organs, she wouldn't have survived the surgery. It was later revealed that the bruises were irregular, as if something else had happened before she fell. The police came to investigate, but the charges went away, because he was Harrison Posen, one of the biggest businessman in the state, and probably a few others.

So it was just Mr Posen and his daughter left. The 2 avoided each other as much as possible, well, she avoided him. She preferred to spend time with the staff, but she would occasionally invite her friends round when her father was on business trips.

But once, just once, he found out. His trip ended early and he came home to find the young Miss Posen with her partner, who I later found out was called Stacie. Her father apparently caught them kissing, and sent Stacie away, and forbade her from returning. He also made sure that she would not have friends, or girlfriends, at the house again, and ordered the doormen not to let them in, or her out. The next time I saw Miss Posen, her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but it wasn't my place to comment, so instead I showed her the yellow and purple tulips she had requested I grow, and I picked some for her and arranged it in a bouquet, which, apparently, was currently in a glass vase by her bedside. I was tempted to ask why, but, again, it wasn't my place.

When her father next returned home, he immediately asked the staff if his daughter had left the grounds or had any visitors. When they informed him that she hadn't he smiled. I shivered. Even from a distance, his smile unnerved me. He instructed them to lock the doors, and not let anyone in. I walked to the shed and collected the window cleaning supplies as my schedule instructed I should be doing.

As always, I started on the bottom of the four floors.

The ground floor was mainly living spaces and a dining room, as well as a ballroom. Then I started on the second floor. That floor was mainly offices. I was soon done and began the third floor, which was the spare bedrooms and bathrooms, and finally the top floor, the bedrooms of the primary residents and a few more bathrooms. I cleaned Mr Posen's bedroom window, and then James's and then I got off the ladder and moved it along as silently as I could so I could clean Aubrey's, remembering the seen and not heard rule. I climbed to the rungs that would make me level with her window, and glanced towards it, seeing something that made my heart stop. Aubrey was laying on the bed, naked, crying and clearly in pain with her father on top of her. She saw me and cried out, only for her father to hit her and yell something I couldn't understand. I looked at her then. I looked into her eyes, hoping to convey just how sorry I was. Her eyes told me she understood. I climbed down as quickly and silently as I could, disbelieving what I had seen. I left the ladder there in my haste. When I got to the bottom I vomited into the nearest bush, grimacing as I realized I would have to clean that up later.

That was not the only night it happened, from what the maids said. The girl didn't leave her room the next day, and I recommended that a few of the maids went up to check on her. They refused to tell me anything.

So I cut her some more flowers and arranged them in a vase and went into her room and replaced the old, slightly wilting flowers that were already in there. It was the very least I could do. I glanced over at the sleeping girl, and sighed. Her makeup had been removed and her face was tear stained and red. My heart went out to her. If that had happened to either of my daughters, I don't know what I'd do. But this was worse. This was her father. I shook my head and left the room. Poor girl. The next day I was emptying the garbage and he summoned her to his office. I went in, too, head bowed. I went over to the garbage can and took the trash bag out. I took my time, long enough to hear her father tell her to clean herself up as they had a guest coming. She nodded, like she knew what that meant.

Of course she did. Everyone knew what that meant.

It meant that she had to go back to her room, shower, brush and style her hair, remove all "unsightly" jewelry, apply plain, natural looking makeup and put on a plain pink dress. Then the man would arrive and the doorman would admit him. She would stand in the center of the room, and he would circle her, looking her up and down, touching her, asking her father questions about her, which she was not allowed to answer herself. If the man found the answers satisfactory then he would return home, and, presumably, tell his son about her. In the week before her 21st birthday, her father would select one of those boys and they would propose to her on the day, and she would accept, whether she loved him or not. It was disgusting.

The man came and went. The next day Miss Posen came into the garden as I was tending to the hedges.

"Thank you for the flowers."

I turned and smiled. "Not a problem, Miss Posen."

"Please call me Aubrey."

"Yes, Miss Po- Aubrey." I corrected myself.

"Could you... do me a favor?"

"Anything, Aubrey." I smiled.

"Could you remove some of the hedges over there?" She asks, gesturing to a maze of hedges out of sight of the house. "Not all of it, just the parts covering that rusty old gate." She pointed.

I smiled. "Of course."

"Nothing else, just that."

"Sure." I replied.

"Thank you, George." She smiled, before walking off to a deserted part of the garden.

I frowned, confused. She knew my name. We don't wear name tags. I smiled again, resolving to start work on the gate immediately. So I do. I cut a meter of hedge that covers the gate down from about 6 feet to a foot tall. Then I got a shovel and pitchfork, and dug out the remains. I threw out the cuttings and tested the gate. It wouldn't open. The ground was too uneven and the hinges too rusty. It was about lunch time. I should have been on a break, but I had to do a few more things.

I used the shovel to remove some of the dirt below and around the gate. Then I went to the shed and got a slab of concrete which I put in the dirt. I replaced the hinges in the gate, smiling when it swung open. I replaced the catch, just in case, and stood back, smiling proudly. I checked my watch. 3 o'clock. I started at 10.

I went back to the shed to put the tools away, and then I noticed some paint. I picked up a tin of lilac purple and a tin of tulip yellow paint, as well as a scraper, some sandpaper, a sheet of plastic, and some paintbrushes. In an hour I have the plastic in place on the concrete and the fence is painted tulip yellow. When the paint stops dripping I remove the plastic and paint the slab with the purple paint. I put up a wet paint sign, proud of my achievement.

Aubrey walked up. "Oh my god! George, thank you so so much! It looks great!" Then she surprised both me and her by hugging me. She tensed and stepped back.

"Thank you. And I'm very sorry, but I have to go."

"Of course. Thanks again." She beamed.

"It's really no problem. Oh, and I would advise you not to touch the paint for another half an hour or so." I advised.

"Oh, that's fine. Stace probably won't-" She cut herself off, blushing.

"Don't worry, Miss. I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you, and please, please call me Aubrey."

"Sorry. I forgot." I shrugged. I started to walk back to the house, but then I heard her footsteps behind me. I pretended not to notice. As I walked under her window I realized that I left my ladder there. I started to take it down, but then I heard her voice.

"Oh, you don't have to do that now." She said. At my puzzled expression, she assured me that she was fine and said that it would be fine to keep it there as long as I needed to. I nodded my understanding and walked off towards the kitchen in search of a late lunch.

A couple hours later everyone had eaten and the waiters were bringing Mr Posen's plates back into the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of familiar blonde hair and got up, curious as to why the heiress to the mansion was lurking around with the staff, and followed her.

I caught up with her when she reached the gate. The same gate I had spent 6 hours redoing. I beamed with pride when I saw how easily it swung open and heard a voice exclaim "oh my god, Bree, what happened to this? Yesterday it looked like crap. It looks amazing!"

"Oh, one of the groundskeepers, George, he's the nice one, redid it for me. He spent all day working on it." She said as she set up the picnic she had taken from the kitchen, complete with plates, glasses, and cutlery.

"Well done, George." The voice stepped through the gate, and I recognized it as Aubrey's girlfriend, Stacie. She stepped forward and hugged Aubrey.

Then Aubrey did something unexpected. She burst into tears.

"Baby? What's wrong?" Stacie asked.

"Dad. He's chosen a suitor. My birthday's in a week. What am I going to do?" She cried. "I don't want to leave you. I love you."

"I love you, too. I also have a solution, if you'll take it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, before I tell you, I want you to know that I don't feel obligated or anything, I'm saying this because we've been together for 2 years next week and I love you, and what's going on is only a small influence on my reasoning, and all it does is adjust the timing." Stacie said.

"Stace, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I don't know. Let's see. Look, I was planning to do this next week but I have something to ask you." She gets on 1 knee. "Aubrey Anne Posen, I have been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. I never thought you would so much as glance my way let alone give me a shot, but you did. And here we are. The last 2 years have been the best of my life. I don't think I can live without you. And now, I have to ask, will you make me the happiest woman alive and do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?" She waited for the answer with baited breath and tears in her eyes.

"What do you think?" Aubrey whispered.

Stacie put the ring on her finger, and stood up and the 2 kissed. I turned away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment. I walked away as quietly as I could, thinking of when I proposed to my wife, and smiling to myself. A week passed. Aubrey didn't wear the ring whenever her father was around, but still wore it often enough for the entire staff to congratulate her. The two met up every night. Aubrey discouraged me from taking the ladder away on a daily basis, making me think that one or more of them were making good use of it.

The next week was her birthday. More specifically, her party. I have been told that tonight I am going to join the waiters to help serve dinner. Today she must get engaged to the suitor her father has chosen. I can only wonder how she's going to play this.

About 5 minutes after the last guest arrives, Aubrey walks through the double doors of the ballroom in a yellow dress, wearing her engagement ring. I smile slightly, knowing that her father asked her to wear pink. It's a small but significant act of rebellion. Her father glares at her. She smiles. I glance at the clock. 11:00. Stacie has until midnight.

Everyone sits at their places. Mr Posen at the head of the table, with Aubrey on his left, and James, who is on spring break, on his right. To Aubrey's left is the boy she is meant to marry. He keeps on trying to touch her and talk to her, and she continues to discreetly shy away from him, continuously looking at the clock, her phone, or the door. The food is served.

At 11:59, the plates are being cleared away and Mr Posen gives the boy a nod. The boy takes Aubrey's hand and leads her into the center of the room. He looks nervous and almost drops the ring as he gets on 1 knee in front of her.

"Aubrey, will you, um, marry me?" He asks. I raise my eyebrows. That's it?

"Oh, sorry. I can't." She says. I can hear the false regret in her tone.

James smiles. Her father stands, outraged. "Aubrey, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well, _daddy, _it means that I'm not going to marry him, for the very simple reason that I'm already engaged." She says with a false smile, honey dripping from every word. She flashes the ring and a few people start muttering.

"To who?"

"Oh, right. Stacie, honey, could you come in here, please?" She shouts, and Stacie enters in a purple dress almost identical to Aubrey's.

"Hi. Stacie Conrad. Bree's fiancee. You can sit down." Stacie says to the boy still kneeling in front of her fiancee. He does.

"Daddy, this is Stacie. We've been dating 2 years as of today, we're in love, and we're planning on getting married some time next year." Stacie stands next to Aubrey, kisses her cheek, and takes hold of her hand. I smile slightly.

"What?" Her father yells, outraged. "Aubrey Amy Posen, you will end it with this girl. Now. Or I will stop paying for your education. You will not be permitted to live here. You will no longer be my daughter."

"Okay, first off, my middle name is Anne, not Amy. You picked it. Don't you remember? Second, I stopped being your daughter when you started abusing mom and raping me." Aubrey states. The room gasps. "In fact, I was never your daughter. As far as you were concerned, I was a bargaining chip. Third, I love this woman and I will not live without her. Oh, and the education thing? Did you know that A Capella group members, under certain circumstances, can earn full scholarships? I talked to the dean, and I qualify. Stacie has an off-campus apartment. I'm going to collect my things and go live with her. I have a friend who works at the radio station. I can earn money doing shifts there. And now I'm 21 I can access the bank account mom left me. Anything else? Shall I elaborate on the months of torture you put me and mom through? Are you going to force me to break it off and show your business associates how quick you are to break deals when they're not in your favor? Or are you going to leave me alone?"

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he speaks his voice is deathly quiet. "You will collect your things. You will leave and never come back. From this day on you are no longer my daughter. James will inherit the company and everything that goes with it, and don't come crying to me when that whore breaks your heart."

"Don't you dare call her a whore!" Surprisingly, it's James, not Stacie, who says this.

"James! What is the meaning of this?" Mr Posen roars.

"I'm done, dad. I knew you were abusing mom. Who do you think called the cops? I didn't want to leave Aubrey with you. I knew you couldn't be trusted. And I may not know Stacie, yet, but I can already tell that she's the best thing that's happened to Aubrey in a long time. I can also tell that they love each other, and that I will eventually grow to love Stacie as much as I love Aubrey. I don't want the company. I don't want the house. I don't want this life! I don't want to become you. Why did you think I went away for college? Any school in the state would have taken me. I went across the country just to get away from you, and by the looks of it I should have taken Bree with me. So leave them both alone. And me. Now, we're going to leave, and never see you again. Got it?" He spits at the older man.

Mr Posen nods.

"Good. Come on girls, let's go." He says. Both girls kiss him on the cheek, and then give each other a peck on the lips and link arms as they leave. I smile and Aubrey beams at me. The doors close, and as I am standing behind the door, we are hidden from everyone inside. On her way out, she approaches me.

"Stacie, this is the famous George."

"Oh, hi George! You were the one who painted the gate, right?" Stacie asks. I nod.

"George, I have something to ask you. One last favor." Aubrey begins, but hesitates.

"Yes, Aubrey?" I urge.

She looks at Stacie, who nods. "Will you... give me away?"

I smile. "Of course."

"Thank you." She whispers.

"Do you need any help with your bags?" I ask.

"I think we can manage." The three go upstairs and pack up Aubrey's room. The stuff is then loaded onto the back of James's truck and into the boot of Stacie's car and they drive away, smiling, and singing along to the radio. I wipe a tear away because, for the first time in years, Aubrey is happy, and it looks like she'll stay that way for a long time.


End file.
